Broomstick Cupboards and their Uses
by nichelle.hp
Summary: Remember that broomstick cupboard next to the Burrow that Harry and Dumbledore talked in at the beginning of Half-Blood Prince? It's good for much more than conversation. HG/RW, with HP/GW in later chapters. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Comfort and Privacy

**Disclaimer: JKR is God. I am not. **

_I fear this may get rather smutty in later chapters… read at your own risk! Hermione tends to stay in character but Ron is a little tricky, especially Ron once he's in love and knows it, so just go with it! I'd like to think that Ron matures a little by the time they grow up, at least where Hermione is concerned. I've written all the chapters already, but won't post unless I have readers! I live off of reviews!_

**Chapter 1: Comfort and Privacy**

"Ronald, will you go grab me a bucket out of the broom shed?"

"Make Ginny go get it."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you do what I say!" As Mrs. Weasley was brandishing the carving knife at him, Ron figured he'd better not argue anymore.

Ginny snickered as Ron threw down his comic and pushed himself off the couch. He whispered a few swear words at her, at which she rolled her eyes. Ron groaned when he pushed open the front door and realized it was raining violently. Pulling on the rubber boots sitting by the door, he trumped out into the rain. He arrived at the broom cupboard with his shirt pulled over his head and realized too late that the door was locked.

He fumbled in his pockets but, alas, his wand was on the armchair with his comic. Hoping this bucket was damn worth it, he kicked the door a few times, hoping sheer force and the age of the shed would work in his favor. No go.

"Need help?" Through the thick sheet of rain, he saw Hermione approaching from the house.

"Yeah," he replied, attempting to wipe the water out of his eyes. "Thanks."

"Alohomora!"

Ron was strongly reminded of a forbidden corridor and a large, three-headed dog. The pair slipped into the broom cupboard quickly and shut the door. "Fuck." It was pitch black.

Hermione lit her wand and handed it to Ron. "Thanks," he muttered again, beginning to look for the bucket. "Can't believe I left my ruddy wand inside."

"You didn't leave it inside," Hermione said, smiling despite herself. "Ginny took it after you told her to eat shit."

Ron straightened up and looked at her. "That settles it. I'm throttling her when I get back inside. Wand or no wand." Hermione laughed quietly and was silent for a moment. All that could be heard was the rain slashing the roof and Ron moving brooms and pruning shears aside to find the bucket.

"Are you scared? About tomorrow, I mean," Hermione asked suddenly. Ron straightened up again.

"What?"

Hermione looked at her feet. "About going to get Harry. I've wanted to talk to you for ages about it but we haven't been alone at all this summer. We're both turning into Harry and it's _him_ You-Know-Who wants dead. It's a very risky plan, to all of us. What if—"

But Ron had closed the small distance between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. She was wet from the rain and he had to try very, very hard to keep from staring at the way her damp t-shirt clung to her. "Everything will be absolutely fine," he said softly, but loud enough to be heard over the rain. "We've got the best with us: Moody, Kingsley, Lupin, even Hagrid on that mad bike of Dad's." Hermione smiled, but he could tell she was still uneasy. "And any Death Eater to come after you is dead meat anyhow."

Through the dim light of her wand, he couldn't see Hermione turn scarlet.

"He is definitely not going to want us to do this. I have to act as though it doesn't bother me but… flying and dueling at the same time?"

Ron had turned back to searching and she was speaking mostly to his bum. "Flying isn't as hard as you think it is, 'Mione," he muttered, almost knocking over a pile of old Comet 260s. "Anyway, your guard will be flying; all you have to focus on is the wand-work. And you're brilliant, so that shouldn't be a problem. Ah, here it is!" He pulled an old blue bucket from behind a bag of Hippogriff Dung Fertilizer.

The bucket and wand dropped with a clatter. As Ron turned around, Hermione had placed both hands on either side of his face and pulled him down about a foot to press her mouth onto his. Bent over awkwardly, he dropped the bucket and stared at her closed eyes as she kissed him.

Just as he figured he ought to touch her or do something with his lips, she let go. He never noticed how bright her eyes were. They were just about the only thing he could see in the semi-darkness.

"I… um…" He wasn't sure what she wanted him to say. Kissing Lavender never involved much conversation afterwards.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking at her feet. "I just… thanks. For saying I'm brilliant," she added quickly. "Not for—"

"Yeah, I know." There was a very long pause. "You're welcome," he said, a little late.

The rain was letting up. Ron was absolutely aghast at the way he was handling this.

Hermione nodded. "Your mum is expecting you with the…" She pointed at the bucket.

"Oh!" He scooped up the bucket and lit wand. "Here."

She took the bucket he held out.

"I mean, no…"

He took back the bucket and gave her the wand.

"Right… Here."

Ron moved to open the door for her, but ended up getting in her way as he reached to push the handle. They danced back and forth for a moment before deciding who should stand where in order for Ron to push the door open for Hermione to proceed.

Realizing it was stupid of him to ask Hermione to go first into the rain, he flipped the bucket over and held it over her head. She laughed and moved closer to him as he shielded her. Ron sighed, figuring at least he fixed this somehow. And walking back, her shoulder pressed against his arm, he didn't so much mind that his mum had sent him out here or that Ginny had stolen his wand. If being wand-less would get Hermione to kiss him, perhaps he'd give up wizardry altogether.


	2. Chapter 2: Celebration and Propositions

**Disclaimer: JKR is God. I am not.**

**Authors' Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews! They definitely convinced me to update. I'm glad you liked the first chapter; I got a lot of remarks about how cute and adorable it was. This is a bit of the same... I was nearly crying by the end, it's a real tear-jerker! Hope you like it. R&R!**

**Chapter 2: Celebration and Propositions **

_We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one,  
And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!_

Peeve's stupid little song had become anthem to all those who had fought at The Battle of Hogwarts. The more rude parts later on were removed and revised, but everyone – all the heroes of the final battle against the Dark Lord – knew it and sang it loudly. And wizards across the world were singing all sorts of songs about their freedom and jubilance now that Voldemort had been vanquished.

In the Burrow, the song ended and everyone cheered, toasting their goblets, shaking hands, hugging and laughing. And to everyone's surprise, Mr. Weasley grabbed Mrs. Weasley around her middle and, with great balance and gusto, dipped and kissed her. Everyone applauded; the portraits of Tonks, Lupin and Fred which hung on the wall clapped and whooped as well. Beside them, the hands of the magical clock were no longer pointed at "mortal peril", though Fred's hand was missing; Mrs. Weasley had removed it because every time she walked past and saw it pointing at "Lost", she burst into tears.

"For his size, you'd think he wouldn't be such a lightweight," Ron said, nudging Harry and pointing at Hagrid, who was passed out on the couch. Harry laughed. Maybe it was the Firewhiskey, maybe it was the gargantuan weight gone from his shoulders, but he had been laughing at everything all night. Ron couldn't remember seeing him in such continuous good spirits.

"What are you gonna do about Hermione, then?" Harry asked, dodging George trying to slip a Nosebleed Nougat into his goblet for the fourth time.

"What do you mean?"

Harry gave him an '_are-you-joking_' sort of look as he swayed on his feet a little. Yep, it was the Firewhiskey. "The two of you started snogging in the middle of the battle!" he said in a hushed whisper. "Surely, you're not going to let her get away _this_ time."

Ron stared. Harry had never spoken his mind about Ron's relationships before. He _really_ must be drunk.

"If you don't do something about it, someone else will. And you'll be out a best mate in addition to a girlfriend because I really don't think I can be friends with someone so thick." He tipped his goblet at Ron wisely and took a sip.

Ron looked across the crowded living room. Hermione stood in the doorway talking to Luna. Or, actually, listening with a disbelieving expression on her face that she only reserved for the odd blonde. She caught Ron's eye and smiled, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head in Luna's direction. Ron smiled and shrugged back, but he continued to watch her long after she'd looked away.

They were alone outside in the warm, blustery June afternoon; rays of purple and pink stretched across the sky. A few moments after notifying Harry that were was, indeed, a steady stream of blood coming from his nose, he left his friend to chase George for the counter-curse and slipped across the room. Figuring Luna wouldn't mind, he slipped his hand in Hermione's and pulled her across the kitchen out into the garden.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. Ron, noticing that they could be seen and, most likely heard, through the kitchen window, took her further out to the broom shed. It escaped his memory that it was the first place they'd kissed – he just wanted some privacy.

"Ron..." Hermione sounded like she was holding back laughter. "Where are we going?" He closed the door. Dusty, dim light filtered in from the cracks in the walls and he looked at her hard. Her smile faded at his stare.

He took a deep breath. His chest felt extremely tight. Here goes nothing…

"I've loved you since the day on the Hogwarts Express when you told me I had dirt on my nose."

Hermione looked as though she'd been punched in the stomach.

"And I finally figured out, after years of rowing and after I left you guys in the forest and after Krum and Lavender and _especially_ after that time in the Room of Requirement—" He turned pink and took another deep breath. "—That you love me, too."

She didn't correct him, so he continued.

"Through the war, I figured it wasn't a good idea for me to say anything. Start anything. I got what Harry meant about Ginny. War is a shitty time to build things because they can just get torn down again."

Hermione looked shocked – whether by his confessions or by his wisdom, he wasn't sure.

"But the war is over. And Harry told me that if I don't do something soon, I'm going to lose you forever. And if that happened… God, Hermione, I don't know what I'd do."

Ron couldn't read her expression now. It was a mixture between calculating confusion and fear.

"So, Hermione Granger…" He realized at that moment that he should kneel, and then realized he had no ring, so he remained standing. Some big-shot he was. "Will you marry me?"

"Ron…"

"Before you say no," he said, quickly. "I know I don't have a ring and I know I'm not rich or talented or anything. But I love you." The words sounded good, natural on his tongue so he said it again. "I love you. And I can't see myself with anyone but you. Ever."

"Ronald, are you finished?"

Ron stared at her, and then nodded.

"Are you asking me because you really want to? Or because Harry said so? Because I'm pretty sure that when he said 'you shouldn't lose me', he meant that you should ask me to be your girlfriend, not necessarily propose."

Ron never felt stupider in his life. "I wanted to," he said in a quiet voice.

"Are you quite sure?" she said in a reprimanding tone, but she stepped closer to him. "Because if you've just had too much to drink and in the morning, you decide you don't want this…"

"No, I want this!" He grabbed her arms gently. "I do."

She inched even closer and relief washed over him as he saw she was smiling. He shivered as her hands came to rest on his chest. One hand slid up his chest to his neck and the slight pressure made him dip his head until they were kissing. It was better than the first time. They were both more confident and comfortable. It was sweeter than the last time, less desperate and more patient.

Ron pulled away slightly. "So, that's a yes, right?"

Hermione laughed and pulled him back to her.

"Seriously," said Ron after a moment. "Because I don't wanna be doing this unless—"

"Yes, Ronald!" she said, laughing. She stroked the hair at the top of his neck. "Yes, yes I'll marry you." He broke into a grin and wrapped her up tightly in his arms. "It was terribly sweet of you to bring me here to ask me," she whispered, kissing her way up his neck. He vaguely wondered what she meant by that, then a few moments later, congratulated himself on his own accidental brilliance.

By the time they'd stopped kissing, Hermione was pushed up against the door and the shed was completely dark. Ron felt lightheaded. "We should go tell everyone," Hermione whispered, running her fingers up and down his arm.

"Yeah…" He could only just make out the outline of her face. Even in darkness, she was beautiful to him.

Once back inside, Ron stood up on the dinner table, pulling Hermione up next to him.

"Ronald Weasley, get your arse _off_ the table!" Mrs. Weasley yelled across the room, but Ron ignored her. He took a goblet and tapped a fork against it until he had everyone's attention and the room fell quiet. Those from other rooms sidled into the kitchen.

"Everyone!" He looked around at them all and then at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly. He was so excited, he felt as though he may explode before he could get the words out. "Hermione and I are going to be married!"

The room erupted into cheers, or in Mrs. Weasleys' case, into tears. Percy and Bill pulled Ron down off the table to hug him and clap him on the back. Hands and faces pressed in on Ron and Hermione, many shouting congratulations and George shouting dirty comments. Ron's cheeks began to ache from laughing and smiling, but it was nothing compared to the ache of happiness that had settled itself in his chest.

"KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS!" someone began to chant and everyone else followed suit. Ron could see Luna hopping up and down in the crowd, punctuating each word by throwing a fist into the air. He'd never seen her looking so deliriously happy. And then he found Harry, who was chanting, too, and smiling just as big as him.

Ron looked down at Hermione, who was beet-red and looking up at him, smiling. As he kissed her, and the din of cheers and wolf-whistles filled his ears, he wondered if the rest of his life could even try to measure up to the happiness he felt at this moment.


	3. Chapter 3: A Good Laugh

**Disclaimer: JKR is God. I am not.**

**Author's Notes: Thank you all so very much for the reviews! They totally got me to to keep updating. Keep them coming, I love you all! This one is a little short, but the idea popped into my head and I absolutely loved writing it. Have fun!**

**Chapter 3: A Good Laugh **

Ron had been banished to his room. Like a child, confined to a corner in a time-out. It had been _years_ since that had happened. He sat cross-legged and sulking on a bed that was now infinitely too small for him. Having been sleeping in a larger one at his own place, he'd forgotten how small this one had been. He adored living on his own, out of The Burrow. And although Mrs. Weasley didn't approve of Hermione and Ron moving in together _before_ the wedding, Hermione's promise of chastity quelled her worry.

"Sex is the _farthest_ thing from our minds!"

"We plan on having separate beds until the honeymoon anyway."

"I just can't stand to be apart from him for so long… you know what that's like, don't you Mrs. Weasley?"

Little did Ron know, when Hermione was consoling Mrs. Weasley, she was telling the truth. He hadn't been allowed to touch her at all. It drove him mental. Knowing that he could have her, that she was almost naked just a few feet away, but wasn't allowed… it was agonizing.

Ron had just begun to contemplate the idea of sneaking downstairs to eavesdrop when the door opened.

Luna's blonde head poked into the room, wearing a jester's cap. Golden bells jingled around her face, which was as serene and blank as usual. The look suited her, Ron thought, especially paired with her radish earrings. "Ginny asked me to bring you downstairs, Ronald."

"What for?"

"A game, I think. She wouldn't say. I think it's a surprise. This whole evening has been quite strange." Ron frowned in confusion. Anything Loony Lovegood was strange must be something not to be reckoned with. But he hoped off the bed anyway. At least he was allowed to leave now.

As quickly as he was removed from a tiny, cramped, uncomfortable space, he was shoved into another one. Once downstairs, Ginny grabbed Ron by the arm and dragged him – despite his protests and questioning – out into the yard. "Fifteen minutes!" she called into the broom shed, pushed him inside and shut the door tight.

"What the bloody –Ginny!" Ron shouted through the wood, working the handle furiously. She had locked it from the outside. He didn't even know this old shed had a locking mechanism. "Alohomora!" he cried, pointing his wand at the handle. Nothing.

"It's not going to work, Ron, obviously."

He turned around. He hadn't noticed Hermione sitting on a barrel in the back of the shed, looking resigned. She wore a fake, cheap wedding veil. It sat, spread thin and too small, on her busy head. She was scowling. "Sometimes I think Ginny is too talented with a wand for her own good."

"And mine," Ron muttered, giving the handle one last fruitless tug. "What's going on?"

"It's called Seven Minutes in Heaven. It's a muggle game. Ginny's turned it into fifteen… the wench." She sighed and pulled the veil off gently. "I find this whole ordeal extremely childish. I didn't even _want_ a bachelorette party. It's my own fault for telling Ginny about them. This whole stupid thing was her idea." She paused for a moment and put the veil back on.

"What are we supposed to do in here? What's fun about this?" Ron asked. He didn't particularly get the _game_ aspect. All Hermione had said about tonight was that at bachelorette parties, the bride and her friends get together and do naughty things to celebrate the brides' last days as a single woman. He didn't see what was naughty about being trapped in a dusty, spidery closet at all.

"She expects us to have sex in here."

Ron's jaw dropped.

"NO," said Hermione firmly.

Ron closed the small distance between them, placing his hands on his knees. "Oh, come on, 'Mione. What's the harm? You told Mum we wouldn't do it in the flat, no one ever said anything about broom cupboards."

"We absolutely will not. How you can find _this_ romantic, I cannot fathom. I couldn't stop Ginny forcing us in here, but I refuse to be embarrassed like this. When we get out, we're telling them nothing happened."

Ron pouted. Then, an idea struck him. Knowing she'd hate him for it, he suddenly threw his head back and moaned, "Oh Hermione."

"RONALD!" she whispered harshly, clapping his hand over his mouth. "Stop it!" They could suddenly hear gasps of surprise from just outside the shed. Exactly what Ron had wanted.

"'Mione… Oh, yeahhhh," he said loudly through her fingers.

She began hitting him on the arms to quiet him. "Stop it right now!"

He reached out and grabbed her wrists, his face close to hers. "Don't you wanna see the look on their faces when we get out of here?" he whispered. "They're _expecting_ us not to do anything… let's give 'em a good shock, yeah?" She frowned at him, not speaking. "Come on… this is your party, 'Mione, have a bit of fun."

She looked at him disapprovingly, then nervously, and then screamed "RON!" She immediately laughed and clapped her hand over her mouth, her wide brown eyes staring at him. Grinning, Ron pulled her hands down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Then he reached up and grabbed the shelf above her head, gently rocking the shed back and forth. "Yeah, baby!"

Trying to hold back peals of laughter, they continued to call out each other's names, encouragements of passion and – on Ron's part – various expletives that, while usually Hermione would have disapproved, now made her giggle.

"Big finish, now," Ron whispered in her ear. He shook the shed even harder, the foundation beginning to creak.

"HERMIONEEEEE!"

"RONALDDDDD!"

With three last, slow bangs from the shed, they concluded their show.

They quickly mussed up their hair and clothes. Their cheeks were flushed from yelling and laughing, so they truly appeared to have just had a very satisfying romp. Hermione took veil off and put it back on crooked. Ron undid a few of the buttons of his shirt. Ron leaned down and kissed Hermione again. "Ready?" he whispered against her mouth. She bit her lip, still laughing, and nodded. His arm thrown over her shoulders, he pushed open the door.

Ginny, Fleur, Luna, the Patil sisters and Hermione's cousin, Agatha, all stood in front of them. They were all wearing hats of various styles, pink faced and absolutely stunned. That is, except for Fleur, who was trying not to laugh and Luna, who was grinning placidly as though she herself had just been thoroughly shagged in a broomstick cupboard.

"Great party, Gin!" Ron beamed at his sister as he led Hermione back towards the house.

Ginny looked as though a flobberworm had juts spoken to her in Italian.


End file.
